


Not So Bad After All

by MadsAboutYou



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Adorable, Christmas, Fluff, M/M, literally so fluffy omg, new identities, puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 23:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5516711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadsAboutYou/pseuds/MadsAboutYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is for the lovely thortillas on tumblr as part of the Hannigram Holiday Gift Exchange! I hope you like it, darlin'! </p><p>Christmas has never been Will's Graham's favorite. But will his first one with Hannibal change his mind?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not So Bad After All

December twenty-fifth had never exactly held a special place in Will Graham’s heart. His childhood Christmases were rarely exciting, mostly spent with only a pair of new shoes under the tree, a mother out on the town and a father passed out the bed in the house of whatever town they were in at the moment. His adult years found him never really celebrating the holiday, mystified by its excitement and joy that never seemed to find it’s way into his home. 

He was finally able to taste a bit of the warmth and happiness that accompanied the holidays when he was with Molly and Walter, celebrating Christmas each year with the usual tree, lights, decorations, and carols. But this year, this Christmas was very different. 

Hannibal and Will had spent the first six months moving from place to place, bandaging each other’s wounds and trying to make it just another day. Will’s scar became infected at one point, and Hannibal had a bone heal incorrectly in his arm. But by half a year, the two were finally settled in a cabin off of the coast of Norway and in good health. The next six months were spent settling into their new lives, living as Kristoffer and Erik Solberg, a polite married couple that was loved by the small town that was nearest to their home. 

They had discussed Christmas a few times, neither exactly making a decision either way of whether or not they would be celebrating. That was before Will came in one afternoon with a stack of firewood and found a large tree that brushed the ceiling in their living room, Hannibal (or should he say, Kristoffer) standing on a ladder and stringing lights. That was a sight, Will decided, that he would like to see every year. 

The two of them decorated the tree together with the lights and ornaments that Hannibal had purchased while Will was out collecting firewood, and when all was said and done, the two of them were curled up on the couch in front of the fire and admiring their work. 

“Are you pleased?,” Hannibal asked Will softly, letting his fingers lazily play with Will’s curls as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head. The scene was domestic and serene, something that the doctor had never thought he’d be able to see with the man currently nuzzled against his hip. 

“Quite,” Will responded with a soft smile, finding that he enjoyed the grand Christmas tree and decorations more than he thought he would. More than he ever had before. 

The days leading up to the holiday had Will in a tizzy. The one thing he seemed to be better at than Hannibal was baking basic treats, especially for Christmas, so he filled the house with a delicious scent for days. He wrapped each of Hannibal’s gifts with care, placing them under the tree and admiring the view as he heard Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas” drifting through the speakers they’d placed throughout their home. He noticed his own gifts under the tree (though he never figured out how Hannibal seemed to wrap them without him noticing), and he thought about shaking them and trying to guess, but he knew Hannibal better than that. 

So there it was, December twenty-fifth, and Will awoke rather early that morning. He felt more like a child than a grown man, but he was nonetheless excited as he shook Hannibal gently beside him. 

“Hannibal,” he said softly, laying down to pepper his face with kisses. “Hannibal. Sweetheart. Darlin’. Min kjærlighet,” he even tried Norwegian to wake him up. “It’s Christmas. Let’s go open presents,” he murmured, not waiting for a response before he was bounding out of bed in just his boxers and a t-shirt, heading straight downstairs. 

Hannibal moved a bit slower, his hip bothering him in the cold bitter cold from the fall. He put on a more dignified outfit (satin pajamas) and followed Will into the living room where he settled on the couch. 

“Aren’t you going to open your presents?,” Will asked, fingers tearing at the paper of his first gift. 

“I’m going to watch you open yours first,” he smiled gently. “It’s the best gift I could receive.”

Will blushed slightly, kicking lightly at his foot with his own as he opened the first box. It was a flannel shirt, a replica of Will’s favorite that had been torn during a run in with the electric saw. “Thank you,” he beamed, running his hands over the material before he quickly moved to the next one. 

Will tore through his presents quickly, practically beaming with excitement and joy at each object. New clothes, his favorite aftershave, a few CD’s that Will often spoke of missing from his old home, and soon he was surrounded by wrapping paper and grinning. “Thank you,” he sighed, letting his head rest on Hannibal’s knee. 

“You’re not done, Will,” Hannibal said softly, fingers brushing through his hair as he gently stood. “I’ll be back in just a moment.”

Will watched him leave curiously, still sitting on the floor. He started to stack Hannibal’s presents on the couch, so it would be easier for him to get them, when he thought he heard Hannibal whispering. The more he listened, he was positive he heard him speaking, something about “remaining quiet” and “tighten this up.” He was about to call out when Hannibal entered the room, hands behind his back. 

“You have spoken of wanting a companion when I’m gone during the day,” he said softly, referencing his job as a butcher in the small town. 

Will was opening his mouth to speak when suddenly there was a small ball of fur in his lap, and his eyes went wide. A tiny black dog was blinking up at him with innocent eyes, wearing a bow around his neck. 

“You—I—Hannibal,” he whispered, gently cupping the pup’s face in his hands. “He’s adorable. He’s perfect. He’s--,” he couldn’t find the right words, just thrilled to have a dog back in the house. 

“He was the runt of the litter, a Polish Hunting Dog. They don’t think he’ll grow full size, but he seemed to be strong,” Hannibal commented, sitting on the couch with a content smile. “Merry Christmas, Will.”

Will blinked a few times as he just stared at the dog, and the dog stared at him in return. “He’s wonderful. Thank you,” he smiled back up at Hannibal, getting on his knees so he could kiss him properly, the puppy nuzzled between them.

“He has everything he needs, all of his things are in the closet. I had to hide them,” he commented with a chuckle, cupping Will’s cheek. “He just needs a name.”

Will smiled as he looked down at the dog and thought carefully. “Tiberius,” he decided, smile growing when the dog’s ears seemed to perk up. 

“Well, Tiberius,” Hannibal smiled, hand sliding along his back. “Welcome to the family.”

 

Christmas was definitely something Will wanted to celebrate every year.


End file.
